Zina. Oh, please don’t ask me anything, master.
D’A. Zina, do you like your master?
Zina. Please don’t ask me to say.
D’A. Now, my little one, do you think you would be happier if you should come to live at our cottage?
Zina. Oh, I should be so glad, Master D’Arneaux; but I can not think of that, it is so impossible!
D’A. My mother seems so happy when you come over to sing to her.
Zina. I pity her so much; she is so helpless and lonely since Nelly died.
D’A. Zina, you could be a daughter to my mother.
Zina. She seems to stop mourning for Nelly when I sing to her, and her face lights up with the old smile as it used to do, when I used to come over to learn to read and sing.
D’A. If I should buy you off your master, how would you like it?